


Without You

by straeon



Category: Emmerdale, robron
Genre: Angst, Home Farm, M/M, Masturbation, Memories, Robert POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4197672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straeon/pseuds/straeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert without Aaron. Sort of set 15/06/2015, after being with Chrissie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without You

“I’ll be right back,” Chrissie smiled suggestively over her shoulder before closing the en suite door behind her, so that Robert was left in the empty, messed up bed with nothing but his thoughts.

That had become the norm for him, lately, his thoughts being his only company. That wasn’t new nor should it be strange to him but for a while he’d had something else, a break from that aloneness. It hadn’t even always been loneliness – there was abandonment, bitterness, a lot of negative feeling and blaming other people for where he was in his life, but while wanting to believe he was better off without them. 

But he wasn’t better off without someone – now he knew that and now he could feel the loneliness because he’d had something different, he’d had someone, but then he’d lost that too.

Robert shut his eyes and sighed, nearly wishing Chrissie was still there, to distract him from his self pity, or rather to force him to return to suppressing those feelings for another man. Listening for the noise of the shower raining down through wall separating them, making sure she wasn’t on her way back, he pressed his palm to his stomach, sliding down slowly, before taking himself in his hand.

Robert had known for a while that he could get off with pretty much anyone. It all blurred together really, they were just bodies for his pleasure and for a long time, who they were hadn’t mattered at all. With no one there to care if he received pleasure from the same sex too, why should it matter? 

But then there was someone to care. It had felt right again to focus on one person, one woman, to block out a part of himself again and pretend this was some kind of redemption to love a woman. It _wasn’t_ empty sex any more.

But he had had no idea even what sex really was until he had Aaron - to stop holding back, to explore every desire he’d neglected, to let that develop into something more than purely physical. He had had no idea what love really was. He’d had no idea what it was to not be alone any more and that didn’t stop when he met Chrissie, it did when he had Aaron.

Nothing felt as complete as their two bodies entwined, only feeling and seeing and hearing and tasting each other; only caring about giving the other man what he wanted, while trying to get as close to him as it was humanly possible to be. 

Hard in his own hand, all Robert thought about as he pushed his head back into the pillow was Aaron’s fist around him as his stubble kissed his face, as his fingers held him closer by his hair as he pushed his tongue against his, pumping him harder but keeping him quiet with his mouth.

Behind closed eyes, he could pretend he was here in this bed again, playfully manoeuvering himself on top of him without touching him, until Robert grabbed his soft, full ass and forced him down on top of him. For once, they hadn’t held back at all, moaning and yelling and swearing as loud as they wanted, laughing as they got louder than ever for the hell of it, as Robert shouted ‘FUCK’ at the top of his lungs just because he could. Then later, he did the same not because he could but he had to with Aaron pounding into him relentlessly, bringing him pleasure that he’d never even imagined before, that was both explosive and flowed gently through and over him like a wave. How their violence from their desperation for each other, to fuck and be fucked by each other, and their impossible, shocking love, that shouldn’t even have come into existence, but did like a miracle, coming together in the same way until they felt like one and the same.

On his knees on his damp bed, Robert gripped the wooden headboard until he could feel it digging into his flesh as he breathed heavily from his vigorous pleasuring of himself beneath him. His forehead fell onto the pillow and for a fraction of a second he didn’t know if he wanted to breathe into it or smother himself or cry or scream. Because all he could feel was his own hand, which had just been all over and inside his wife, and though everything he’d done was a betrayal to her, which he shamelessly and remorselessly ignored for most of the time, for a moment this felt like a betrayal to the other man he loved. To be in his bed without him after all they had shared here. To tell someone else he loved her, knowing how empty that was after he’d said the same to him here and meant it, meant it so much that those words hadn’t felt like enough to express how much he was _everything_ to him in that moment.

In this moment now, all there was was the sound of his wife singing in the bathroom, who he felt less and less for every day that passed, and the emptiness he felt without Aaron as he came to a climax on his knees, that left him feeling nothing but the full depth of how pathetic and lonely he was.


End file.
